


Notes on the Run

by karrenia_rune



Category: Robotech The New Generation
Genre: Gen, Scott Bernard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 16:32:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the relationship and perspectives between Lancer and Scott Bernard on the road to Reflex Point, mostly from Lancer's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Notes on the Run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beautifulside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulside/gifts).



Disclaimer: Robotech: New Generation belongs to Harmony Gold, Tatsunoko Studios and its creators and producers. It is not mine. Written for beautifulsides’s unfilled request from the 2011 Yuletide Rare Fandom Exchange.  
“Notes on the Run” by karrenia_rune

I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen ice and I’ve seen how a single-minded gut-level determination can be a good thing, especially when it’s all one has to keep one going. Still, when it comes to dealing with a certain displaced and dislocated Lieutenant Scott Bernard I think I need to tread more carefully here than say I would when approaching one of other members of our merry band of freedom fighters.

It’s not that Scott is unapproachable or even cold or aloof, he’s just not the type to allow himself to open up on the emotional level. I guess it’s because Scott I so wrapped up in his own personal crusade against the enemy that he is unable or unwilling to his let his grip on the ultimate goal slip; even for a moment.

Speaking of the enemy, the Invid have literally and figuratively put its iron boot heel down upon our world.

‘Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been there and done that, because long before Scott and the others came along I too had a certain one-man crusade going, it’s how my alter-ego or rather the identity of Yellow Dancer came about; but that, as they is a story for another time.

Yet, I recall those all too rare occasions when we could afford to relax and just enjoy each other’s company when I’ ve seen Scott crack a smile or laugh at one of Rand’s jokes, or at the interplay between Rook and Rand, or what have you.

When Scott first arrived it was like his center of gravity and determination pulled all of usall into his crusade.

Let's be honest here; with the exception of maybe myself and maybe Rook and Lunk, none of the others were soldiers; however, they each had their own reasons, their own needs to fight back and courage knows no boundaries.

So, like everything else we soldiered on. Trust me, it was no walk in the proverbial park, and then I do not believe that any of us expected it would be. Even our youngest, Annie. But to her credit, even as young as she was, anyone who could keep up that level of enthusiasm, energy and hope alive is remarkable to me.

I suppose one could argue that old soldiers like Scott and I, or even Lunk have a habit of becoming jaded, should we live long enough; but I think Annie, in a way that none of us ever expected somehow became our good luck charm. Of course, if you were to ask her point-blank she would no doubt deny everything.

Looking back on those last few lines that I have written down here it has occurred to me that if someone were to come across them they might believe that I was dissing my friends and comrades. Let me assure that is that is not even remotely my intention. But I digress; back to the main point, Scott Bernard.

Like I mentioned at the beginning, personally I don’t think there’s anything wrong with single-minded determination nor with belief in a cause. You see if that determination, that hope is all you have to cling to, fine and dandy. If that’s what keeps you going, gets you up in the morning; then I’m all for it.

There was a time when it got in the way of team morale and I certainly was not above telling Scott to his face, that if he wanted to wage a war against the Invid, fine, we’re in for the duration, just don’t make the mistake of losing sight of the little details in favor of the big picture.”

To his credit Scott did take my well-intentioned and honest feedback with his understated dignity, oh, he was mad at first, but it blew over.

“Lancer,” Scott called from where he hauled over the crates that we’d used to transport our stolen supply of protoculture and I set down the notebook I’d been writing in, placing the pen in between the pages as a place holder.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I had been sitting with my back resting against a large boulder that came tumbling down from the mountains in the distance. We had chosen a sheltered valley in which to make camp with a clear view in all directions. The last thing anyone needed was to be taken by surprise by and Invid scout patrol.

“This stuff won’t unload itself. Come over here and led a hand,” Scott said.

“Sure,” I replied and immediately stood up and then sauntered over easy as you please.

We were soon joined by the others and the unloading took a much shorter time than I had expected it to.

When the others had taken their own supplies and went off to refuel the Cyclones and the two jets that was when Scott stopped me from seeing to my own cycle.

“Lancer, we need to talk,” Scott said quietly.

“I know. I’ve been expecting something of the sort.”

“You have?” Scott asked, honestly surprised that I had anticipated this for some few days now.

“Yeah, so shoot. What’s on your mind?”

“Look, I realize that we’ve only known each other for a while now, and let’s face I’ve never been much of a…a people person.” He cleared his throat and spent a few lingering moments shuffling his booted feet on the ground before he would look up and make eye contact with me. When at last he did there was a look in his eyes that I had never noticed there before, one that was a mixture of both anger and embarrassment.

“Look, while I appreciate the concern for my welfare, I don’t need a mother hen watching my every move.”

“Who says that’s what I’ve been doing?” I demanded, after all, it was not like I was making any of my concerns a matter of general knowledge and I more or less resented that he would equate my concern with being a mother-hen. I could be angry, too, “And what’s that got to do with anything?”

Scott did not answer right away; instead he scrunched up his eyes and spasmodically clenched and unclenched his fists. In the back of my mind I was wondering if it had been a good idea to antagonize him this early in what may have become a conversational mine-field, but I wasn’t about to back down and neither was he, so it was best to roll with it and make the best of it; come what may.’

“Nothing, everything. Oh, to hell with it!” Scott finally replied. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Lancer. What I’d like to know is not why you’re concerned with my well-being, is why we’re arguing about it now.”

I shrugged and with the movement of the muscles of my shoulders I think I felt the tension and the anger of only a moment ago slip away as well. “Because, if you would trouble to recall, I told you once before that a little moderation every now and again is a good thing.”

“I haven’t been that bad, have I?” Scott asked.

“Not, nearly that bad,” I replied, “but the signs are all there.”

“Okay, okay,” Scott replied. “What’s your point?”

“The point,” I replied, stressing the last word, “Is that it would do you a world of good and it would help you from burning out completely.” I folded my arms over my chest and waited to see what the outcome of that last little bit of advice would be. I did not have to wait long and when the reaction came it was not at all what I had expected. Honestly, I was expecting another curse or a punch, or something like of that nature.

Instead Scott began to laugh, great peals of laughter that nearly doubled him over, and in full armor that would mean I would have to help him back to his feet. He laughed so hard that I could scarcely believe it.

He finally stopped laughing and then reached over to give me a comradely smack on my left shoulder. “Lancer, I meant what I said earlier; there are times when I really don’t get you, but thanks for the advice nonetheless. I guess I needed it like I needed another hole in the head.”

“Don’t mention it,” I replied.

“Come on,” Scott replied as he walked away from the trucks. “I want you and Lunk to go over the map of the upcoming terrain we’ll have to cross to get across those mountains.”


End file.
